Strawberry Fields

On picking fruit and being in the moment

Six of the nine-quart haul.

“This is like being at a really good yard sale,” said Shelley.

I knew what she meant.

We are the first to arrive at a nearby farm, just a minute or two before eight. The air still fresh, the sun still on medium-low. We are here for the strawberries.

Farmer Jim arrives in his green pickup with the cab sawed off so that it looks like one of those El Caminos from the 1970s. His grin extended from ear to ear, his enthusiasm contagious. The fields, he tells us, are loaded with fruit. Galleta right in front of us, Earliglow to the left, Jewel to the back.

We’ll each take six quarts, we say, and ready our wooden baskets.

Shelley with her strawberry bounty and her mud-caked knees.

Earlier this year, Farmer Jim and his wife (also a farmer) announced their retirement. Good for them, the community said on social media. But sad for us. Their market was beloved. Their corn, picked several times a day, was my introduction to Lancaster five years ago. Then I got to know their peaches. The heirloom tomatoes and pumpkins. And of course, the strawberries.

My heart skipped a beat when I read the text from Jim’s daughter. Jim’s got strawberries for picking all week, she writes. Give him a call if you want in.

This is the moment when you do not hesitate or deliberate. Mother Nature is the boss and if you want in, you must abide.

Of course I’m in.

So is Shelley, who also has this sickness, this penchant for fruit moments that come just once a year like birthdays. A cause for celebration.

Look at how the berries are glistening in the morning light, she says, the knees of her jeans already caked with mud.

Bejeweled is more like it, I want to say to Farmer Jim. And we are on the best scavenger hunt ever.

Six quarts filled, I know I am not done here.

I’m thinking of jam that needs to happen and the freezer stash for later and strawberries with granola and and and …

Three more boxes, Jim, I say.

We are high on strawberry fumes on the ride home. We are giddy with our big score. I can hardly wait til same time next year.